


Plan B

by justlikedaylightsavingstime



Series: Supernatural Pairing Bingo [14]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drabble, M/M, mostly just crowley feeling sorry for himself, my take on the start of season 10, spn pairing bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-17
Updated: 2015-01-17
Packaged: 2018-03-07 22:28:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3185543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justlikedaylightsavingstime/pseuds/justlikedaylightsavingstime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley has had enough of Dean Winchester ruining all his carefully laid plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plan B

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Plan B  
> Pairing: Dean/Crowley  
> Type: Friendship/Business/Manipulation  
> Rating: G/PG  
> Word Count: 605  
> Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any related character.  
> Summary: Crowley has had enough of Dean Winchester ruining all his carefully laid plans.  
> Warnings: Minor swearing.  
> As always feedback/criticism/comments/requests/prompts are extremely welcome.

Written for the 2014 [spn pairing bingo](http://spnpairingbingo.livejournal.com/).  
You can also read this on my [LJ account](http://roastspud.livejournal.com/8717.html).

***

Moose’s awkward ramblings were still rattling in the back of Crowley’s mind. Easy enough to ignore. As if the Winchester’s were stupid enough to think he’d still leave them with the means to summon him against his will.

Crowley knew he wasn’t capable of love, he hadn’t been even when he was in full possession of his ‘humanity’ as it was. Hedonism, yes. Adulation, yes. Obsession, yes. But never love.

And now was no different. Sure the hormones from Sam’s quick-fix bloodbank might feel a lot like love, but he knew it wasn’t. It was need, desperation. Dependency, he thought with utter disgust.  
And Crowley didn’t do dependency. The King of Hell did not beg for favours, didn’t crawl and grovel like some sick little human. Crowley was the one who others, humans, demons and angels alike, came to grovel to.

It was time to teach the pitiful hunter a lesson, and fate had placed the perfect tool into Crowley’s conniving hands. Dean Winchester. In fact not just Dean Winchester. Demon Dean Winchester. Demon Dean Winchester who would just happen to be at Crowley’s beck and call, at least if he handled him right.

With a smooth grin Crowley firmly pressed the blade into his salvation’s hand. Each word of his monologue was carefully planned, carefully directed. Dean Winchester was going to be well and truly situated under Crowley’s thumb.

“Let’s go take a howl at that moon.” There was something almost electric about the flash of those obsidian eyes as the beast, Crowley’s beast, awakened.

He hadn’t seen Dean the first time around, the first time he truly succumbed to his pure unadulterated self. The aggression, the violence, the malice that burned at the heart of every human. Crowley well understood that Dean was God’s chosen human, the man who in his imperfections and tribulations was the most human of them all. Fortunately, the creatures boasting the most humanity made the most perfect, most dedicated, most passionate demons. And how Crowley loved to watch them fall. This time round he was going to be able to watch every last exquisite detail of Dean’s true nature, and it was going to be fabulous.

***

The screen blinked back into life as he flashed another blast of demon mojo at it. Stupid humans with their stupid hair and stupid brothers and stupid cures. Nobody realised how much planning it took to create your own readymade demon henchman. Just tracking down Cain had been hard enough, not to mention nudging the Winchesters in the right direction. Not that either of them was smart enough to figure out what he was doing. Still, it had taken months of hard graft. Maybe not Crowley’s hard graft as such, but his demon PA had really put some effort into it. And now it was all flushed down the pan yet again because of the Winchesters. One of these days he was really going to have to think about ending them once and for all.

As he ordered another bourbon and stared at that ridiculous cowboy hat picture, he found himself fuming at having to start back from square one again. Not to mention the fact that it was just sad to sit drinking by yourself. He brushed off the flash of loneliness, pegging it down to the maudlin effects of alcohol. Screw that. Screw the Winchesters. Screw Sam and his horrible blood. Screw Dean and his rib shaking laughs. Crowley just needed to focus on more important things. It was time for a new plan. Back to the drawing board. He could only hope that this time it would stick.

**Author's Note:**

> Just like always you can find me at justlikedaylightsavingstime.tumblr.com


End file.
